


First morning

by Ameraka



Category: Adventures in Odyssey
Genre: F/M, Honeymoon, Love, Sex, i mean this is ... much more detailed than normally so ...fyi if u want to read or avoid, jasonnie, married, otp, so much love babes tho, uv been warned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-12 04:54:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29254773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ameraka/pseuds/Ameraka
Summary: It's their first morning in their new house. Though they've been married for a week, it's the first time they've made love after they return from their honeymoon.and the 3rd chapter is later on, after (or during?) A New Life
Relationships: Connie Kendall/Jason Whittaker





	1. Chapter 1

She lay there beside him, the sunlight shimmering across her red silk top, creating highlights and shadows. Desire burned inside him for her. But he wanted to let her take the initiative. This was the first time he'd slept in her bed, after all.

She leaned over, kissed him gently. Pulled back, her green eyes blazing with the fire he felt. Then, she kissed him again, her tongue slipped into his mouth. Pleasure exploded through him. She wrapped her arm around his neck, and he sat up, and they pressed together. He slid his hand beneath her shirt, meeting velvet-smooth skin, and slid up over her hip to the soft curve of her waist. Her kisses sparked across his neck, down to his collarbone—a playful nip—he returned the favor, gently on her neck—she laughed, and pulled him down on top of her—He kissed her mouth again and rolled down onto the bed—she sat over him, and slipped her shirt up, and up, slowly over her stomach—to her belly button, the smooth beauty of her stomach—the hollow below her sternum—the bottoms of her breasts—then she let the shirt fall again.

She brought his hand forward, guiding it, letting him lift the shirt—he felt her stomach—his fingers brushed one breast and then she lifted it the rest of the way, over her head, tousling her hair—there she was, in all her stunning beauty, a sculpture more beautiful than he'd seen—they'd made love in the dark before, so he'd never seen her in daylight—this marble beauty—a goddess, if there were such a thing, her brown hair tumbling over her shoulders—

He worshiped her beauty. Her eyes sparkled with delight, and drew him toward her—they fit together in every way—he needed more of her—so beautiful—but dare he? Dare he touch this flawless princess, he, this lowly scarred man—she accepted him, but he knew he'd never feel like he deserved her. She'd chosen him. It was the only license he needed, though he did it in awe, slowly sitting up, touching her delicately—lifting his hands slowly over her waist—he ached, but dared not go faster—her beauty astonished him with every second he looked at her—he thought he should not stare but her gaze invited him.

He touched her face, brushing his hand down over her brow, slipping back wisps of hair, down to her jaw, cupping her chin in his hand, his thumb against her cheekbone. Her lips were curved in a playful smile. He shook with how amazing it was just to be allowed this close. For her to allow him the privilege to not only see her perfection, but to touch her—he longed for her with a horrible ache but he dared not take this too fast. Dared not rush his act of adoration—to do so would be to disrespect her. The gift she offered him. Her love—her trust—all of her—giving him pleasure beyond imagining.

He caressed her brow, the bridge of her nose, her soft lips, her chin. He ran his hand down over her neck; she leaned back a little, allowing him to touch her collarbone, down over her breasts. Over the gentle slope to the nipple, brushing its tip; it stiffened at his touch. Down to the generous bulge of flesh cradling the nipple, to feel the soft crease beneath the breast, where it met her ribs.

So beautiful. Seeing her in daylight for the first time sent him into a paroxysm of awe. She cupped her breast, and guided him forward, letting him lick her nipple, then put his mouth gently around it. He sucked it; she leaned back, lying down, her legs arched. He leaned over her, still sucking—she moaned in pleasure, and arched her back, letting him get even more of it in his mouth. She guided his hand to the next breast, and he kneaded its soft flesh. His thumb pressed softly against her nipple, pressing it in a little. He kissed it lightly, and then kissed the center of her stomach, over her belly button.

She caressed his face, and pushed him down onto the bed. Leaned over him, kissing his neck. Then down over his sternum to his nipple. Sucked at his nipple, hard. Then, she slid his pants down, and hers as well. He couldn't stand it any longer. But he had to wait—let her take the initiative. She slid down her panties, and then slid his underwear down over his legs, and threw them on the floor.

She took his throbbing member in her hand, pumping it until it ached unbearably, erect and stiff. She let him stay that way for a little, and then lowered herself over him, shimmying down over him so his member fit tight into her. She rocked back and forth, squeezing it, faster and faster—heat, pain, and pleasure building—hotter and hotter, the fire within him bursting to an explosion of love more wonderful than he'd ever known—even those first nights. He waited to release, wanting to give her the most pleasure possible—oh it hurt but he waited then finally released deep into her—she cried out, and he did too, in a symphony that tore through him to his very core.

He lay back, shaking, sweat pouring off of him. She lay down beside him, sweat sheening her perfect body, her breasts heaving up and down in the sunlight. Her flawless, naked body enticing him even now that he was exhausted and spent beyond words. He loved her—oh, so much. Heat flushed through him with each breath. And the wonder of it—of always plunging deeper into the mystery of how amazing she was. To give her pleasure gratified him like nothing else. Took away any guilt he might have that she'd given him this total gift of her body, of her complete trust and joy in him. He hoped he'd given her at least some of the pleasure she'd given him. And by the look in her eyes, as she smiled over at him, told him that he had.

He reminisced with her—and looked forward to many other times they would have together like this. Each time new and different, discovering more about each other. More and deeper into their love.

A love that would never die.


	2. Chapter 2

She lay cuddled against his arm on the pillows. Her legs were draped over his, both of them curled up in the dancing sunlight of the late morning. They were both naked, completely comfortable, reveling in each other's bodies and the pleasure they'd shared.

He marveled at how much she'd given him—and part of him wanted to do it again. But they were both tired, and...well, it was hard to find an excuse not to. What else did they have to do? Nothing worth doing. Not today. And his exhaustion was only a very temporary excuse. The only real reason was whether she wanted it or not. She seemed to be content to lie here—but was she thinking the exact same thing? Or wasn't she? If not, perhaps it wasn't as wonderful as what he'd experienced. He felt a little shame, a little jealousy, but mostly just resignation. Of course she was more than him in every way. He accepted that. He just wanted to give her as much pleasure as possible. At least satisfy her in some way! Maybe he'd ask her, and see what was satisfactory and what wasn't, and change it if at all possible. They were married, and she'd have to live with whatever he provided. If that wasn't enough—well—he'd just have to try harder. There was no other option. He could never give her less than what she deserved. Never give up on doing for her as much as she'd done for him.

She'd saved his life. His sanity. And now-she'd given him hope for a new life, after everything that had happened. He was new. He could start over. She'd erased the worst memory of his scars—and after last night, he could hardly remember that there had been any pain, or that they were any more than nightmares.

He took a deep breath. "Was that okay?"

She flipped onto her side, her eyes piercing his. "Are you kidding me? That was amazing. I didn't think you could top the first two nights. I mean, our first time was—perfect—and the second time was even hotter, and this was-off the charts. You, my dear—" she traced the edge of his collarbone—"are the most amazing man ever and I couldn't imagine anything better than what we just had. I…kind of want to do it again, but I also want to savor it, and take in what we have together."

She pressed up against him, her breasts flopping over his chest. He brought up his hand and touched them, caressing them softly.

She lay down onto the bed, spreading her legs. He put his hand on her thigh, and she nodded. He stroked her inner thigh—she moaned in pleasure, writhing on the sheets. Such a beautiful creature. She turned around, facing him, and he reached up between her legs, touching her there, feeling where he'd gone earlier, still raw and tender, touching her soft hair. She opened, letting him in—and then shut her legs tight, moving up and down with his hand there. She jerked hard, and then, it was open for him. He sat up, and thrust his member inside her, harder and harder, lifting her up off the sheets. She screamed out, and he lifted her higher, so he was arched back, and she was in the air, sitting on his member for a minute of pure ecstasy.

They lay back again, and her hand lay on his chest. All they could manage was breathing hard, in unison, wrapped up together in recovery.

They fell asleep soon after.


	3. Chapter 3

Connie followed Jason back to their suite and sat on the bed. She flipped her shoes off onto the floor and rubbed her feet where the straps had cut into them.

Jason sat down beside her and took her foot in his hands, giving it a soft massage. Her foot tingled; she stretched and leaned back, propping herself up with her hands on the bed.

"You shouldn't have to wear torture instruments like that," he said.

"The price of fashion," she said lightly.

"It's not fair—men don't have anything comparable." He loosened the tie at his neck and slid it off, then flung it haphazardly onto the bed. "Maybe we should get you some more comfortable shoes."

"Others might not match my dress so well."

He frowned, and slid her other ankle into his hand. His fingers massaged the pain right out of her foot. "If you're okay with it….I just—hate seeing you in any kind of pain."

"Well, it's worth it if I get this kind of treatment."

He leaned down, kissed the top of her foot. Thrills spread through her at the soft pressure of his lips.

"I'd be okay if you didn't wear any shoes with your dress."

She laughed. "That wouldn't work. I have to wear shoes."

"You don't really need them indoors. They're more beautiful without anything on them." He traced one finger up her calf, a feather's touch at the bend in her knee. It tickled—but she resisted the urge to pull away. She didn't want to miss one nuance of his touch. "In fact…." He laid his hand on her knee, right beneath the hem of her white dress. "As beautiful as you are in your dresses—" he closed his eyes, a crease in his brow, "—you are stunning without them."

She lay back against the pillows, and he slid up beside her, infinite shades of blue deep in his eyes.

"I can't just go around without clothes."

He smiled. "No, that wouldn't work. I love seeing you dressed up—but I love even more when you don't have this encumbering fabric…." He fingered the sleeve of her dress. Ran his hand lightly down over her arm. "Then I can see the astonishing beauty beneath."

"Well, I could just go around without clothes when we're alone together."

"Something we could share—just between us. It'd be easier—if—you know—the mood strikes. We wouldn't have to take off our clothes—we could just—"

A thrill ran through her at the idea. Longing sprang up in her to see Jason without clothes—his beautiful, magnificent form—

She fingered the top of the dress, where its fabric met her chest. Then she flipped onto her side, her back to him. He lifted his hand to the zipper, just barely brushing the skin at the upper part of her back. Then, slowly, he dragged the zipper down to its nadir and softly touched the small of her back. When his fingers lifted, longing for his touch rippled through her. But she had to do this slowly, deliberately—the wait would make it all the more delicious. Though she didn't know if she could stand it without smothering him in kisses….

She slid off the bed, her bare feet on the soft rug. Then, she slid one sleeve of her dress down over her shoulder, pushing it down over her chest so it hung just above the curve of her breast.

Jason gasped; gratification poured through her that she'd pleased him. He deserved every pleasure that she could give. If she ran out of ideas, she'd ask—she wanted to give him exactly what he wanted.

Slowly, she tugged the sleeve of her dress so it revealed the upper curve of her breast. She pressed her hands inward, making her breast bulge larger than its normal size. Then, she held the fabric of the dress just above her nipple, teasing him with the faint pink of its upper edge. Cupping her breast with one hand, careful to cover the nipple, she swept the sleeve of the dress all the way down, so it hung, revealing one breast completely—if her hand hadn't been there—and her upper ribs.

Jason sat against the pillows, his long legs sprawled out, a bulge pressing against his pants. His face was hungry with longing.

She'd torture him a little bit longer, because she knew it would feel all the more amazing for him when he released.

She pressed her hand against her breast, inching her thumb down to rest on her nipple, revealing the bumps decorating its edge. Her nipple was stiff, erect. She pressed hard into her breast, making it bulge upwards, and massaged faster and faster, while she moved with the rhythm of her hand, thrusting her hips forward and back, faster and faster until she began to jerk, exaggerating the motion so it took her whole body with it. She slammed her body back and forth while massaging her breast, fingernails digging into the generous flesh. Pleasure trickled through her and she lowered her other hand, sliding it back and forth, until glorious delight shot through her. It was nothing compared to what Jason could give, though, and she yearned for his touch. Not yet.

His legs writhed against the covers, the bulge against his pants erect, almost bursting from the fabric.

She finally let her hand drop and he gasped as her breast was revealed in its entirety. Slowly, she pulled the other sleeve down and let it hang over her breast, covering it just above the nipple, barely hanging on. She took a careful step, then another. The fabric began to slip—she caught it just before it fell and pulled it teasingly back up. Disappointment spread over his face. Then, in one swift motion, she pulled the sleeve down, revealing her breast completely. He gasped, sat up straight, his fist clutching the bedspread, knuckles white.

The dress clung to her hips, loosely hugging them below her stomach. Slowly, she slid her hand down her neck, over her chest, between her breasts, and down over her stomach to stop over her belly button. Then, she slipped her fingers below the fabric of the dress and pulled it down before letting it drop on the floor to pool around her feet. She only had her lacy black underwear on. Carefully, she slipped one finger beneath the elastic at her hip.

"Wait—" said Jason, springing to his feet. "Let me do the honors."

She sashayed up to him, exaggerating the motion of her hips. Delicately, he touched her breast, ran his finger down over her nipple, then cupped her breast in his hand. "Beautiful. Now this is what we're missing when we wear clothes all the time." He kissed the top of her breast, then her nipple, dragging his tongue around its edge, lingering on each little bump. Pleasure burst through her. Now—she wanted more of him—nothing else mattered.

But he stepped back. Slid the jacket off his shoulders and let it fall to the ground like a discarded leaf. Then he unbuttoned his shirt, revealing his throat, the top of his chest, then following a line down his sternum to his stomach. Just hints of the beautiful sculpted muscles. She trembled, desperate for him, desperate for more.

He slid one sleeve off of his arm, and there were his magnificent biceps, intricate muscles interplaying beneath his tanned skin. The shirt hung off one shoulder for a moment before he slid it off the other shoulder and there he stood, his glorious chest exposed, the nipples dark ovals along the edge of his pectorals.

"You're like some Greek god…" she whispered.

He laughed. "I'm not so great as that." He ran one hand along the scar that traced his chest, the place where the whip had torn his flesh….she hadn't even noticed them. The scars accented his body rather than marred it, except she hated that they had brought him pain. The knot of a bullet scar showed beneath his heart and a twinge of sorrow echoed through her, from the day she'd almost lost him.

"I can never get over how much of an amazing body you have."

A blush spread across his cheeks. "It's…not the best in the world."

"It's the best to me. I mean, I wouldn't want any other body than this." She swept her hand toward him, her fingertips longing to touch him.

He unbuttoned his pants, revealing the generous bulge in his underwear. Thrills raced through her when she saw it—she wanted to see more of it. His pants dropped to the floor and he slid out of his shoes to stand in his bare feet on the rug.

He drew his hand down over his hip, slid it beneath the elastic at his waist.

"Wait—" she said. "Let's do it together."

She pulled her underwear down just as he did, and his magnificent piece sprang free. Ah—she longed to take it in her hands, to kneel before him and worship it. Most of all, she needed it inside of her, giving her only what he could give—its amazing pressure along with his love blasting through her—

He stood there, looking at her with admiration in his eyes. She drank him in, lingering at every part of him—she could never get enough. Savoring each part of this until she couldn't stand it anymore.

He stepped toward her, lifted his hand to her hair, and swept it back gently, just brushing her shoulder with his fingertips. "I never did repay you for the other night—the first time we—"

"Oh, yes you did."

"I can never match how amazing you are, but I want to give you just a fraction of what you gave me."

"It's not a competition. Besides, you don't know what every little touch does to me—not to mention- You don't need to repay me for anything."

"I…couldn't exactly keep up with your frenzied heat. I just…eventually have to sit back and let you do your thing. You know exactly what I like—without even asking, and I feel totally inadequate compared to that. I have to give you the most amazing experience I can—and I…don't ever quite know what the right thing is."

She laughed. "I don't know either. I just—try to give you everything I can."

"It works." His breaths quickened.

"What you do works too, Jason. I mean—you're amazing. You don't have to do anything but be who you are. Just one touch is—more wonderful than all the fireworks in the world. And then—when you are inside me—it—I can't describe it. It shreds my mind apart and there's only you, I'm with you in one forever-moment—and I don't ever want it to end." Tears sprang to her eyes. One trickled down her cheek. He lifted his hand, wiped it away.

"I just—don't ever want to stop pleasing you."

"You won't."

"I mean—I always want to find new things you'll like. Because you deserve it. I want to at least try to pay you back for all you've given me."

"I—kept myself from you. I owe you everything."

"No. That's in the past. It…if there's one good thing about it, it gave us the chance to get to know each other again. Though I wouldn't trade your pain for anything."

"I wasted so much time…when I think of what I did. What I could've been giving you for that whole month…."

"You more than made up for it."

"That's because I –could hardly help it. I had so much bursting inside of me after all that time I had to shower you with all the love I held back before, smothered with….pain."

"That pain doesn't belong here. Not anymore."

"I know. I want to give you everything you want. Is there…anything in particular you like?"

"Well….you know I never knew anyone before you. In the Biblical sense. Not quite, anyway."

"What do you mean?"

"I did go further than I should have."

"Oh. You told me that. I….didn't really want to know the details."

"Because it—she—doesn't matter. Anything you do, my love, is more than enough. I don't even deserve one touch." He slid his hand along hers, sending bright sparks snapping through her.

"Stop that, Jason. You deserve—everything in the world. All the pleasure I can give you. So….do you have any requests?"

"Well, mostly I want to give you what you want. But…what you did the other day….Let me see if I can show you. It was…especially potent."

He leaned over, kissed her on the lips. She moved her lips in time with his, matching his passion, grasping the back of his neck to get closer to him. He pulled away slightly—she pressed into him, gathering his mouth in hers, needing him like she needed air, pulling him back toward her with her hand. He gave a muffled laugh and pressed his lips to hers again, sliding his tongue into her mouth.

Ah! Pleasure burst into the next level. She met his tongue with hers and they tangled in each other's mouths as their lips crushed together and their bodies met, skin against skin.

His hand ran along the length of her spine, traveling down the dip in her back to the curve above her hips, and rested there, stroking her skin until fire blazed through her and she could barely stand it. Then, he grasped her waist with both hands and he pulled back a little, then took her lower lip in his mouth, and gently nibbled it.

She gasped. It was amazing! She'd done this to him? She couldn't remember. Most was just a frenzied blur, wonderful feelings storming through her one after the other.

He held her at the small of her back, his fingertips massaging her there. Astonishing pain-pleasure throbbed inside of her while he continued to give her light nips along her lip, then gathered it into his mouth and sucked it.

She slid her arm around his shoulder, running her hand up and down the dent of his spine. He gasped; his member pressed against her, and she needed him. But she still had to give him what he liked—arouse him to the maximum. What had he done that she liked—before?

Aha!

Pulling against the relentless desire like a powerful magnetic force, she stepped back a little and he let go of her lip. She leaned down and, her hand still pressing against his back, she placed her mouth around his nipple. Licked it in a slow circle, savoring the salt taste of his skin, the texture of the little bumps, everything that was him. This little nuance of what he was, this small, perfect part.

He gasped and leaned back a little, letting her mouth get all the surface area it wanted. His fingers traced the back of her neck, and she shivered with delight, almost distracted from what she had to do.

She gathered the nipple in her mouth and sucked hard, stretching the sensitive flesh. A low moan emerged from his throat. Then he liked this as much as she'd liked it! Gratification poured through her, along with arousal. She loved giving him what he wanted—it made her want him all the more. He was so beautiful, entrancing, like this, at the mercy of every move she made.

The nipple pulled out, she gently nibbled the little bump, caressed it with her tongue, and then let go. It sprang back into place, moist and erect and deep red.

"Connie—that was—" He pressed close and kissed her, devouring her mouth in a frenzy of passion. She met his fire with hers—melted into him, into who he was. Nothing else mattered. All thoughts erased as she plunged into the depths with him, reveling in the beauty of his skin and his eyes and his hands that tore over her body like a storm and his lips that dripped hot coals over her body …..

He grasped her hips, swung her into the air, and twirled her around, her hair swirling over her face. Laughter spilled out of her throat. His blue eyes blazed at the center of her universe.

He laid her down onto the bed and then crawled up beside her. His brown hair was tousled, curls dropping over his eyes. She reached up and buried her fingers in his hair.

"Any other requests?" he said.

"I just want you." She burned inside, needing him desperately.

He kissed her mouth, her cheeks, her forehead, her neck. She arched back, offering herself to him. He kissed down between her breasts, giving her a long, lingering kiss on her stomach. She spread her legs for him and he seized her lips. Fire roiled through her. He maneuvered over her and she grasped his waist, pulling him toward her and he plunged inside her. Slow at first, agonizingly glorious, he began to move faster and faster while she moved with him and then –nothing else existed but white-hot pleasure and his love, his essence, merged with hers.

He flopped down beside her, sweat glistening across his brow, shaking from the pounding exertion. Her core throbbed with delight. Her chest heaved, her breasts lifting up and down with each breath.

He drew his hand along her jawline. "My Connie. So beautiful." He was breathless. It sent thrills through her—that he'd given her all of this. He kissed her temple. She kissed his perfect chin. Nibbled along his lip. He gasped. "We could….do this again…if you want."

She slid her hand into his hair, damp with sweat. "Only if you do. That was—I don't know, Jason. You always outdo yourself each time, I don't know if I can stand it. So much pleasure –it'll rip me apart one of these days."

"I didn't hurt you?"

"No—No, Jason. Not unless you count—that—pain." She slid her hand down his abs, the beautiful rippling muscles, to just above his partially stiff member. She circled her hand around it and he moaned, arching back. To have such glory at her fingertips—to be able to make it do things at her command—

Perhaps he didn't want it. She lifted her fingers, drew them along his side. He closed his eyes, leaned his forehead against hers. His arm wrapped around her, pressing against her back. She kissed him on the lips and they melded in a slow, lingering kiss, reminiscing with hot coals what had been a burning inferno a few moments before.

She woke up. His arm was slung across her waist, and he was breathing steadily, the moonlight splashing across the planes of his face. So beautiful… She didn't want to wake him, but she longed to kiss him. She compromised by lacing her arm beneath his, sliding closer until her skin met his. He stirred, his arm tightening around her, a smile on his lips. She kissed him, right beside his mouth, then closed her eyes again, reveling in the fact that she was so close to him. Never, ever would she be further from him than this unless she had to be. And if she did—she'd never withdraw from him. This—this was much better than how cold and dark she'd been for so long.

She stirred, waking. Jason stood, naked against the morning sunlight, his body gilded with gold. He stretched, and she gloried in his astonishing form, his movements, the play of muscle against muscle, the sleek, flat planes of his pectorals and the low mounds of abdominal muscles. The hump of his round bottom, his long powerful legs, the beautiful piece that was more perfect than she could ever have imagined. Pleasure trickled through her when she thought of what it could do.

He turned to her. "You're awake!" He blushed, and moved into the shadows.

She laughed. It was funny to think he could still be embarrassed, after all they'd shared.

She stretched, displaying herself for him, letting him feast his eyes on her. She wanted to give him all of herself that he wanted. If any part of her could give him the least bit of pleasure that he'd given her, she wanted to do it for him.

He drew a quick breath and stepped toward her. She writhed on the sheets, making herself look pleasurable for him. His member stiffened.

"Would you like me to show you something else I liked?" he asked.

"Yes, please!"

He came toward her and slid over her. Drew his hand down between her breasts. Down to her center, and rubbed her there, back and forth, gently. Bright sparks of pleasure danced across her mind. She spread her legs for him and his fingers continued to rub, making her throb with aching pleasure.

She spread her legs wider, ready for him, and he thrust into her.

"Harder!"

He obeyed and his hard member moved faster and faster, tearing deep inside her until pleasure burst her open and she screamed and screamed.

He lay down beside her and caressed her breasts, sucking her nipples until she jerked back, needing him again, and he came inside of her, blessing her with his world-shattering love.

Her skin burning, thrills racing through her, she ran her hand over his face, traced its infinitely beautiful features, until she fell asleep.

Her eyes opened. Light dripped in through the curtains. Jason was standing, shirtless, in the golden light.

She gasped, reveling in his astonishing beauty. How could someone like this be here, with her—and he was all hers? She slipped out of bed and his eyes caught hers as she walked toward him. Such love in his eyes—almost too much to bear. She made herself face it, face him—she didn't want to miss one second of who he was, and his incomparable love for her. She had to do something for him….she felt she could never make up for what she'd done. Leaving him, when he must've been in pain as much as she had. Needing her, while she withdrew into darkness.

She slid her arm around his back, and he wrapped his arm around her and drew her to him. He kissed her temple. Outside, through the crack in the curtains, sun rays poured over the rolling hills, caressing the distant mountain peaks.

 _I could stay like this forever_ , she thought. She kissed his jaw; a low laugh rumbled in his chest. "My Connie." He turned to her, kissed her forehead. Then her lips, and she reveled in the soft pressure of his mouth against hers, the smooth skin of his back beneath her palms.


End file.
